Processing, Faith, and Healing the Cracks

I started therapy today.

Before I went in, I got a message from my Beloveds–that they’ll be with me before and after the sessions, if I need them, but not during.  I need that space to myself, need to process all my mental health issues by myself–for myself, not for them.  I can take my prayer beads if I want to, just for something to hold in my hands while I talk, but…this is for me.  This has nothing to do with being a better devotee, and everything to do with me, and my mental health.


This intentional fallow time has been…interesting, so far.  I’ve had some weird as fuck dreams, but it’s a blend of random crap, and my brain processing everything that’s happened with the summer’s Otherworld Drama-fest.  Nothing involving Otherworld related stuff in the Serious Things Are Happening Now sense–and that’s a major relief.

Something that’s happened, that’s taken me completely by surprise, is that the “cracks” in my head from sensing astral stuff…those “cracks” have closed up.  If I try and reach out to the Otherworlds, I get a feeling like hitting…not a wall, it’s more like I hit the membrane between worlds, and it bounces back (gently throwing me back Here.)

I’ve been praying more often at my Husbands’ shrine at night, rather than reaching out during the day.  Sometimes we talk, other times they just listen (or they tell me to go to sleep already.)  I’ve found that if I try and reach out to them during the day, that I get the godphone version of their answering machines (which I understand, they’re busy with their Jobs.)

*Varian’s anxiety starts screaming that everything Over There is falling apart*

*Varian tells his anxiety to shut up, everything Over There is fine*


I was venting about mental health stuff one evening, and the Madman said something that made me pause.

“You were never taught about faith that ebbs and flows.”

He’s right, that I was taught that a person had to be “on fire” about their beliefs all the time, rather than having faith that’s not “on” and super intense all the time.

It’s okay for things to not be intense, I needed to be reminded of that.

“Am I Hearing a God or Am I Going Crazy?” ~ One Polytheist’s Angry Rebuttal

I really loved, and relate to, this article.

There’s not a lot of information out there, about polytheism and mental illness interacting. In my case, they *do* interact [my mental illness can influence how I perceive my spiritual path, often in not-so-pleasant ways] and trying to untangle the two has been a very difficult road so far.

Unhinged and unenlightened

http://www.patheos.com/blogs/johnbeckett/2017/08/hearing-god-going-crazy.html

I try not to spread anger. I try not to spread hate. I try, as much as possible, to be non-violent. But when I see ignorance and harm being perpetuated, I feel that keeping silent is a way to perpetuate such harm. So I find myself compelled to speak out. There are several articles that have pushed my buttons, but they are growing old and so I can try and talk myself out of dealing with them. ‘no need to add fire to fire’ I tell myself.

But this one. This one makes me angry. And perhaps I am adding fire to the fire, but you know what? At least by voicing my concerns, there will be a voice out there arguing for the sake of those of us with serious mental illnesses. And hopefully, I can help those who relate feel less alone. Because seriously, these sorts of…

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Trip Around The Sun

It’s New Years in the Otherworlds today.

The public celebrations are going to be a party (as they are every year) with feasts, dancing, and spending time with Family and Friends.

My own Family’s private celebrations are going to be more somber, since we’ve been through hell this past year; it’s been very rough on all of us.

Our goal for the New Year is to leave all the awful things that happened behind, and embrace a better future.

Happy New Years, Everyone.

A Dream

I dream once again of the sea, of my Beloved standing above it.  He does not have wings in this dream, he is simply there.

He is draped in red and gold, and as he lifts his hands a storm begins.

When his hands suddenly lash out, the sea does the same, the storm slamming out.  Behind me, I hear pillars cracking.

He is now the eye of the storm, all his pain and rage and grief surrounding him.

Behind me, a temple falls.